


On the 6th Day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: Six Degrees Fahrenheit

by Mangokiwitropicalswirl



Series: The Twelve Tropes of Christmas [6]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 14:23:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9127612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mangokiwitropicalswirl/pseuds/Mangokiwitropicalswirl





	

“Mulder, where’s your coat?” Scully asks coolly once they’ve stepped out onto the museum entryway.

 

“Lost my coat tag, remember?” He shrugs and wraps his arms around his body, running his hands quickly up and down his arms for warmth. He turns up the collar of his suit and tries to pretend he’s fine.

 

“Here, take my scarf.” Scully unwraps the green wool length from around her neck and passes it to him. 

 

“Scully, I’m fine,” he protests, “You need it more than I do, what with that neckline and all.”

 

“That neckline and all?” She smirks.

 

“Or should I say, lack of neckline?” He waggles his eyebrows.

 

“I’ll be okay,” she laughs, “I’ll button the coat all the way up. I’m getting a taxi anyway.”

 

Mulder wraps the scarf twice around his neck and thrusts his hands deep into his pockets. “I have a better idea. Can you walk in those things?” He nods at her teetering heels.

 

“Yes, I can walk in these things,” Scully scoffs. “Though if you want to go far, I may be a bit slow.”

 

Mulder holds out his arm and nods toward the open space across the street. “Let’s walk,” he says. “I’ll help.”

 

Scully slips her hand into the crook of his elbow and gives him a questioning look. The evening has been a bit of a roller coaster -- one minute, she’s pressed so close to him, the heat of his chest nearly leaves a mark on her dress, and the next, he’s skirting away from an innocent mistletoe kiss. 

 

They cross Jefferson St. and make their way out onto the Mall on the neatly plowed sidewalks. The pathways are lit with round yellow lights now haloed by a whirl of tiny snowflakes. They are quiet but moving swiftly through the puffs of frost given off by their rapid breathing.

 

“So what was that in there?” Scully ventures after they've passed the small grove of trees along the street and made their way out onto the long open lawn. 

 

“What do you mean?” Mulder huffs.

 

“I mean,” Scully’s tone sharpens, “what’s with that mistletoe bit?”

 

“You mean, why didn’t I kiss you?” Mulder dives straight to the point.

 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t have thought that would be a big deal. We’re friends.”

 

“So you wanted me too, then?”

 

Scully pauses and chooses her words carefully. “It’s been an interesting night, Mulder.”

 

“The night’s not over yet, Scully.”

 

For a few minutes, they say nothing, but their steps fall into a rhythmic crunching along the icy path. Scully nearly slips once or twice, but she tightens her grip on Mulder’s arm and stays upright. Between shivers, she chatters, “Mulder, where the heck are we going?”

 

“Don’t you trust me, Scully?” Mulder teases and throws her a grin.

 

“Well, I’d like to, Mulder,” she tosses back slyly, “but the last time I trusted you it was to go get me a drink, and then I found you out on the dancefloor”

 

Somehow even in her playful retort, Scully’s insecurities have inadvertently slipped through and the air between them suddenly vibrates with the unspoken spectre of Diana.

 

“She wanted me to go home with her, you know,” Mulder volunteers.

 

“No, I didn’t know.” Scully says flatly.

 

“I told her she had the wrong idea,” he continues.

 

“Does she though?” Scully surprises herself at her boldness and presses further, “I mean, after everything this fall, you can see how she might think…”

 

“Goddamnit Scully!” Mulder stops abruptly and grabs her by the arm, “I love YOU. When are you going to actually let yourself hear it?!”

 

Scully snaps to attention and stares up at him, her mouth dropping open in surprise. Mulder’s eyes widen in panic when he realizes what he’s just said. 

 

“I mean, um...” he gulps, shuffling back and forth on his feet, frantically trying to think of a way to minimize the impact of his sudden declaration.

 

She looks away over his shoulder and asks, almost mumbling, “If that’s true, why didn’t you kiss me in there? It sure seemed like you wanted to.”

 

Mulder sighs and reaches out to lift her chin toward him until he’s looking her straight in the eye. “Scully, I didn’t want the first time I kiss you to be in front of Agent Douchebag and his band of merry men from accounting.”

 

A soft smile works its way into the edges of Scully’s eyes and she breathes out slowly. “So, you’ve thought about this, I take it?”

 

“Well,” he moves closer, continuing to steady her at the elbows, “haven’t you?”

 

She grins, tightening her grip on his arm. “A million times.”

 

“And did you imagine Agent Chad there?” 

 

She giggles and shakes her head.

 

“Well, that’s a relief,” Mulder smiles down at her, eager to close the distance between them, but still holding back.

 

“So,” Scully smoothes one hand over the breast pocket of Mulder’s jacket and looks up at him coyly, “what did you imagine?”

 

Mulder gestures with a nod to their surroundings, the long Mall blanketed with soft snow, the bright dome of the Capitol gleaming at the far end of the lawn and the yellow light framing the facades of all the buildings along the edges, a little dusting of snow skittering through the air. 

 

“Something a bit more like this,” he whispers as he gathers her closer to him and bends to press his lips to hers.

 

Despite the frigid air, Scully’s mouth is warm and soft. She sighs into the kiss, and reaches one arm up around his neck as it deepens, his arms wrapping around her waist and her shoulders until they’re pressed chest to chest.

 

She feels like the world is spinning and she’s at its absolute center. Time slows as if caught in a bottle. She feels a thrust of desire in her stomach as Mulder’s tongue slides between her lips, and hears the rush of blood that buzzes through her as he moans into her mouth.

 

Mulder feels like he could lift off the ground in release, as if all the desire held back these past years is emptying into the space between their lips in one long whoosh. It’s almost too much, and the little sounds of pleasure escaping from Scully’s throat send a thrill straight to his groin. 

 

For several long minutes, Scully hears nothing but their liquid kisses and the thump of her pulse in her chest. Her hands grip the skin at back of his neck and tangle into his hair. Mulder smoothes a hand over the crown of her head, feeling her silky hair between his fingers, and smells little snatches of her perfume. She tastes like white wine and snow. He smells like his lingering aftershave and the damp wool of her own scarf. 

 

After a few minutes, the fact that Scully is wearing a seasonally inappropriate gown and Mulder is clothed in nothing more than a suit jacket puts a halt to things. Despite their generated heat, Scully is soon quaking with cold and her nose and cheeks are a bright flushed red. Mulder’s nose has started to run.

 

Scully pulls away and laughs, “Mulder, it’s freezing out here! We need to get inside or we’re going to get frostbite.”

 

“So that wasn’t hot enough for ya?” Mulder jokes as he reluctantly steps away, steadying Scully back down onto the sidewalk.

 

Scully curves a hand around his cheek and smiles. “That was plenty hot, but the temperature’s dropping. We need to get moving.”

 

“This way,” Mulder takes her by the elbow and continues leading them across the park. On the opposite side of the Mall, the white marble columns of the National Gallery are lit up against the close dark sky. Mulder navigates them across Madison and up the slick stone steps.

 

“Mulder?” Scully looks at him with concern, “I’m pretty sure the Gallery’s closed by now.”

 

“You’re right,” he says, “but the cafe’s not.”


End file.
